


Tom Riddle's Guide to Acquiring a Date

by asterismal (asterisms)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Attend Hogwarts Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23759512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterisms/pseuds/asterismal
Summary: “While I agreed to help you out of the goodness of my heart—”Harry snorts. Riddle doesn’t quite manage to hide his annoyed frown at the interruption. “Sorry,” Harry says, not even pretending to mean it, “It’s just, I didn’t realize you had one.”He gestures for Riddle to continue.With a huff, Riddle does. “I suppose I’ll ask for something after all, since you’re soinsistent.”
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 22
Kudos: 1210
Collections: Corona Challenge





	Tom Riddle's Guide to Acquiring a Date

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [mintal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintal/pseuds/mintal) in the [CoronaChallenge](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/CoronaChallenge) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Lauded defense prodigy Harry Potter is—shockingly!—having trouble with the theory for the current spell/hex/strategy they are learning. The current DADA professor decides, who best to help Harry but the second-ranked person in class, Tom Riddle, also known as Harry's academic frenemy.
> 
> cocky!Tom and sassy!Harry

“A tutor,” Harry repeats, staring into the smiling face of Professor Rosewood, this year’s DADA professor. “Why do I need a tutor? Why can’t  _ you  _ help me, professor?”

There’s only one student she could have in mind to tutor him. Harry feels the sudden urge to go drown himself in the lake. 

“I’m afraid I simply don’t have the time, Mr. Potter—”

“This is literally your job; how do you not have time?”

His professor ignores him. “—And besides, Mr. Riddle is a wonderful student. While I must admit he doesn’t have your instinct for Defense, I have no doubt he’ll be able to help you with your problem.”

“But—”

“He managed the spell just three days ago, as I’m sure you recall,” Professor Rosewood tells him. 

In fact, Harry  _ does  _ recall. 

While it took the entire class period for Harry to manage even a wisp of smoke, Riddle somehow conjured an entire shield of it. When put to the test, Harry was the only one who managed to dissipate it, and it’d taken his strongest blasting curse to do so. 

Since then, Riddle had been even more insufferable than usual. 

Nevertheless, he tries again. “Professor—”

He’s cut short by the door to the classroom opening behind him.

“Wonderful,” the professor says. “There he is now.”

Harry closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and tells himself that he will not throw a fit, though he very much wants to. As much as Professor Rosewood favors him, even he couldn’t get away with such a blatant display of bad manners. And anyway, to show just how annoyed he is would mean Riddle wins. 

He’s already smug enough. 

There’s no need to give him yet another thing to smirk about. 

“Good afternoon, Professor Rosewood,” Riddle’s stupidly smooth voice says. He can feel Riddle’s gaze hot against the back of his neck. “Harry.” 

He will not curse Riddle in front of his professor. 

“Hello, Riddle,” Harry says, turning to face him with a bland smile on his face. 

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Riddle.” Professor Rosewood stands from her desk, gathering a stack of half-graded essays as she prepares to leave. “As I explained to you last class, Mr. Potter came to me with some questions about the shield we practiced earlier this week. As you managed it fairly quickly, I believe you’re the best person to help him.” 

“Of course,” Riddle says. “I’m happy to help.” 

He aims a charming grin her way. Harry wonders if he’s the only one who can see how dead Riddle looks behind the eyes when he does that.

Professor Rosewood smiles back. “Excellent. I’ll leave you to figure out the details for yourselves.” 

She nods in farewell and strides to the doorway. 

Harry doesn’t watch her go, too busy glaring a hole in the side of Riddle’s face.

“Oh, and Mr. Potter?” Professor Rosewood calls from the door. When Harry turns to her, surprised, she has a stern look on her face. “Make sure to thank Mr. Riddle for his time.”

Harry blushes at being caught out, and she sweeps out the door before he can sputter out a response. He supposes this is what he gets for being so obvious about his dislike. 

The moment the door swings shut behind her, he feels Riddle’s eyes on him again. 

“So,” Riddle says, and Harry bristles at just the sound of his voice; he sounds far too satisfied for Harry’s peace of mind. “You need my help.” 

Harry takes a deep, fortifying breath. 

When he turns to face Riddle, he sees the other boy leaning casually against Professor Rosewood’s desk, watching him with an amused little smirk. At the look on Harry’s face, his smirk broadens into a grin, and he pushes away from the desk. 

Harry takes a step back, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Why did you agree to help me?” 

Riddle pouts, looking hurt. 

“I want nothing but the best for my fellow students,” he says, placing one hand over his heart as if every word that comes out of his mouth isn’t complete and utter bullshit. “Why wouldn’t I help you?”

Harry isn’t moved by the display. He says, “You want something from me.” 

Riddle laughs at him. 

“Such distrust, Harry,” he says once he’s composed himself, though he can’t hide the way his eyes crinkle with residual glee. “I’m not entirely sure what I’ve done to deserve it.”

“Really,” Harry says dryly, eyeing the space between them. “Would you like a list?”

Riddle steps closer, delighted. “You keep a list?”

Harry feels a startled blush spread across his cheeks. “No,” he snaps, stepping back again, only to halt when he feels the edge of a desk press against the back of his thighs. “It’s an expression, you—”

“Careful, Harry,” Riddle says lightly. “I  _ can  _ take points, you know.” 

Harry bites back the insult, glaring instead. While he doesn’t necessarily care about the House Cup, he refuses to give Riddle the satisfaction. 

In the end, it doesn’t even matter. 

He suspects Riddle is even more pleased about Harry doing as he says than he would be at getting to take points. 

“What do you want?” Harry asks, dragging the conversation back on topic. 

“Well…” Riddle drawls, and Harry rolls his eyes. “While I agreed to help you out of the goodness of my heart—”

Harry snorts. Riddle doesn’t quite manage to hide his annoyed frown at the interruption. “Sorry,” Harry says, not even pretending to mean it, “It’s just, I didn’t realize you had one.” 

He gestures for Riddle to continue.

With a huff, Riddle does. “I suppose I’ll ask for something after all, since you’re so  _ insistent.”  _

“Great,” Harry says. “Let’s hear it, then.” 

Riddle closes the distance between them, looming over Harry and forcing him to lean back against the desk to keep them from being pressed chest to chest. He smells good, Harry notices, and then he immediately scrubs the thought from his brain because  _ no.  _

He  _ refuses.  _

“Go to Hogsmeade with me. As a date.” 

For a moment, Harry only stares blankly at the other boy, certain he misheard.

Then he laughs. 

When Riddle doesn’t laugh with him, Harry forces himself to stop, pressing one hand over his mouth as he looks up at Riddle with wide eyes. “You… You’re serious,” he says, breathless. 

“Is it truly so hard to believe?” Riddle asks, his voice colder than Harry’s ever heard it. 

“Well…” Harry tries to edge out from between Riddle and the desk, but Riddle moves with him. “Yes, actually, it is.” 

Riddle glares down at him, looking profoundly offended. “I disagree.”

“Yeah,” Harry says faintly. “I got that.” 

He still isn’t sure this isn’t some elaborate joke. If it is a joke, Riddle is incredibly committed to it. “Go to Hogsmeade with me,” he says, “or I’ll tell Professor Rosewood you refused my help.” 

And Riddle is awful, but he isn’t the  _ worst.  _

Avoiding him definitely isn’t worth Professor Rosewood’s ire.

“Alright, fine,” Harry says, crossing his arms. “If I go with you this weekend, you’ll teach me the spell?” 

Riddle tilts his head, considering. “One date for every lesson,” he says. 

Harry’s mouth drops open in outrage. “That’s ridiculous!” 

“You don’t think you can learn it in one lesson?” Riddle asks, one eyebrow raised in judgement. 

And Harry knows he’s being goaded. 

He  _ knows it.  _

But it works. 

It takes Harry three lessons to learn the spell. As he considers the unwavering shield spread before him, he decides that maybe Riddle deserves to be thanked, after all. 

“Hey, Tom,” he says. Riddle perks up from his near unnoticeable slouch, pleased that Harry's finally used his first name. “Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?”

Riddle stares at him. “You mean…”

“As a thank you,” Harry says. When he sees disappointment flicker across Riddle’s expression, he grins and adds, “And also as a date.”


End file.
